Breathe
by Martin Whitlock
Summary: 2am and she calls me 'cause I'm awake.


Hello everybody. Who's feelin' good? Eh? Anyone?

I have to say now, that if you aren't in the mood to cry you probably shouldn't read this now. Or anything that I write, really.

Good short fic about Rachel. I'm pretty sure she is the one that moved to Hawai'i right? If not let me know so I can fix it. Maybe I should have just put Rachel/Rebecca ha-ha. Anyway, proceed with the show. Short fic let me know what you think!

This fic is inspired by the first half of the song 'Breath' by Anna Nalick. Look for chapter two coming soon. They will be independent of each other, but companions.

_2am and she calls me cause I'm still awake,_

_"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake? I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"_

_Yeah we walked through the doors,_

_So accusing their eyes._

_Like they have any right at all to criticize._

_"Hypocrites you're all here for the very same reason"_

"Jacob"

I was started out of my sleep by a voice I knew all to well. It was my sister Rachel.

"What are you doing here?" I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and was, needless to say, shocked to see her crouching over my bed, the curtains of my room blowing in the breeze let in by my open window.

"I need your help" she said. Her voice sounded scared and lined with tears.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" Any malice I might have once felt for my sister leaving me and my family and her people in general was gone in an instant as I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her.

"I need you to go somewhere with me tomorrow, and hold my hand. Please don't judge me" She said. Her breath shuddered as she buried her face in the crook of my neck and shoulder. "Please don't judge me"

I shushed her and rubbed her back until she fell asleep.

I woke the next day and there was a note on my sill. "Meet me here whenever you can get away from dad"

I sighed and dressed silently. Once I had dad established for the day I lied to him about how I was going cliff diving with Bella, and drove my Rabbit as fast as his poor little heart could handle to the address on the card. I felt my colour drain as I saw the big, square, dual 'p's that no one really wants to ever see in their life.

I hopped out without even rolling my windows up and ran to my sister's car. She was staring blankly at the steering wheel and started when I knocked softly on her window.

"I'm sorry" she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. Her voice had no emotion. Even to hear the sadness and fear that lined her voice last night would be a relief. I wrapped my arms around her and escorted her past the line of egg throwing protesters and into the door with the big, square, dual 'p' that no one ever really wants to see.

Rachel had tears streaming down her face and a far off look in her face and as I handed her the clip board and pen from the registration lady behind the desk. They hung limp in her hands. I stifled a sigh as I took them from her and filled it out.

We waited, my arm intermittently around her, and squeezing her knee supportively. A half hour later I heard the nom de plume I gave my sister, Jessica, and I held her hand as I led her to the room. I turned my back respectfully when she was to disrobe and held her hand as they gave her a mild sedative to relax her.

"I just don't love him ya know?" my sister said in a lazy drugged tone. "I only married him because he was my only way out. And now I'm all pregnant and I just can't look into the face of a child from a man I don't love."

Her voice was almost nonchalant as she bared the deepest part of her soul.

"Does that make me bad" she asked, looking up from her exam table with the wide, innocent eyes.

"No babe, it doesn't." I felt a thick knot I my throat and tears welled up. I was sitting next her in the small room, wondering what she must be feeling. I looked at her and she was staring at the walls as though she were asleep with her eyes open, her pupils dilated from the drugs.

The doctor had set up the paper and the stirrups and all the necessary equipment and had begun work. I saw her wince in pain a few times and when I heard the suction turn on I looked at her, worried. Just as me fears predicted, tears welled in her eyes and silently rolled down her cheeks. She looked like an ancient statue. Eyes too big; face too stiff. But there were tears flowing freely.

As far as I could tell her pulse hadn't even quickened. It made my stomach hurt and I let out a small sob. Seeing her look like that hurt me to my soul. Tears started flowing freely and she looked at me with her big eyes, her expression like that of a concerned child.

I squeezed the hand I had been holding and she bowed her head. The doctor silently got up and softly told her not to fly and to rest for at least two weeks before physically exerting herself. And he walked out of the room. I heard the door click and it was as if I switch had went off.

I saw her blink once and she screamed. I pulled her into my arms and let her scream into me. I let her release her fear, and her anger and her frustration into my soul. Anything to make her stop hurting like this. She continued screaming until her voice would not sound, and then she sobbed until she could not breathe. She breathed until she could no longer resist the seductive whispers of sleep.

_Okay, I'm not really sure how an abortion is conducted, but I heard that they have to cut the fetus out or something, not that I particularly care to know that much detail. I just thought about how painful having to make that decision would have to be._


End file.
